Under the Milky Way Tonight Part 2 By Al Bruno III The stars were swirling above Jason Magwier, streaking the sky with arcs of intense light. The sight made his eyes ache but he was powerless to look away. His stomach twisted, his ears rung. It was as though he was on a carnival ride that was spinning out of control. That had been one hell of a fall. Gingerly sitting up, he stared reproachfully at the mouth of the sinkhole he had blundered into. That hadn't been there before. Cautiously, he ran his fingers across the back of his head. There was a huge lump back there -- it hurt just to touch it. He had been out cold, but for how long? A few minutes? A few hours?  Lorelei. He hadn't meant to leave her alone for long. Not in this desert, not on this night. It took a few tries for Jason to get back on his feet, the ground was like the deck of a ship on an unruly sea. Lord, did his head hurt. This was almost as bad as the time he'd been thrown through the wall of an arboretum. A few minutes of pained climbing brought him to the lip of the sinkhole. Now all he had to do was navigate by the light of the campfire. He scanned the horizon for its reassuring glow. "Well, bless my buttons." Jason said after turning in place a few times. No sign of the campfire, it must have gone out. Nothing to worry about yet, he still had everything under control. Reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket he pulled out the compass he had picked up at Pexley's Emporium. Thankfully he had had the foresight to buy one that glowed in the dark.  Except of course that it wasn't glowing. Jason gave it a gentle shake and shards of glass tinkled out onto the ground. Not good . . . but all wasn't lost yet, he still had his unerring sense of direction. Pocketing the ruined compass he set off walking, certain that he would be back to the campsight in no time. He walked cautiously, just in case there were any more sinkholes. It was odd though, he didn't think that there could be sinkholes in the desert. He'd have to read up on that when they got back to the apartment. This had certainly been a disappointing evening, the phantoms were playing hard to get. Instead of going home with a prophecy or two, it looked like he was going to be returning with a minor concussion. Perhaps it was a kind of karmic payback for getting involved with Lorelei. It couldn't work out in the end, his mind knew that, but his heart had other ideas. And he had vowed long ago to listen to his heart more often. Besides she was the one that had pursued him. It wasn't as though -- Jason froze in mid-step. There shouldn't be any buildings out here . . . The structure was square and blunt, about thirty or so stories in height, with windows that had long ago been bricked and boarded over. The walls of the uppermost floor were falling away, revealing girders and wires. The constellations shone through the gaps. Jason could see figures moving up there, writhing and undulating in the starlight. A feeling of almost child-like vulnerability washed over him. It felt almost as if the crumbling edifice was staring down at him. Sounds filled the air. The din of a legion of unearthly voices assaulted him. They were everywhere like the sand beneath his feet and the stars above. This wasn't the right direction at all. Jason turned and started to walk away. Something was wrong; it was supposed to be safe here -- not populated with malicious sinkholes and nightmare buildings. What had he lead poor Lorelei into this time? A heartbeat later he decided that it might be more prudent to run. Something struck Jason Magwier head-on, sending him to the ground. He tried to struggle but the wind had been knocked from him. He grabbed at his attacker as the tumbled end-over-end. A sharp pain erupted from his hand as he finally found the breath to scream. * * * They made it back to Magwier's apartment in record time. Now with Bowie wafting from the stereo and cocoa brewing on the hot plate, Lorelei finally found the courage to speak, "I'm sorry I stabbed you Jason." "It's nothing." he flashed her a grin, but his face was ashen. He was bent over the bathroom sink, running his wounded hand under the tap. "I was wrong to take you out there without properly explaining everything. I was trying to play at being a teacher. And not doing a very good job of it." The room was illuminated by a wash of red light from the neon sign of the Chinese restaurant next door. The only furniture was a mattress lying on the hardwood floor; Lorelei sat on the edge of Magwier's makeshift bed. "Are you sure you don't need any help?" "Don't your feet still hurt?" She looked down at them, they were cut and scratched in a dozen places from her run through the desert but it wasn't that bad. Not as bad as what she'd done to him. Goddess, how could she have been such a stupid girl? She'd struck in blind panic without even looking! She could have killed him, killed the man she -- She loved? Did she? Resting her chin on her knees, she looked long and hard at him. He was arrogant, full of mysteries, nothing but trouble and one of the few people her mother truly hated. On the other hand, he was brave, funny, intelligent and one of the few people her mother truly hated. What wasn't there to love? Then why haven't you ever told him? A voice in the back of her mind quipped. Why indeed? Carefully shuffling into the bathroom, she circled his arms around his waist and rested her cheek against the reassuring warmth of his back. "Hey there," he said, "You wanna get the gauze and scissors out for me?" "Sure." She rustled around in the bathroom closet as he switched off the water and sat on the side of the tub. He had a towel wrapped around his injured hand, it was stained almost completely red. Lorelei made a mental note to swipe more from the dormitory tomorrow. "What happened out there? You said it wasn't phantoms of dead people you were talking to. What was it we were seeing?" "Well Charles Dickens had it right when he theorized that there were three kinds of spirits. Spirits of the past, spirits of the present and spirits of the future." Lorelei found the scissors, "So, what kind of spirits were they?" Magwier had that faraway look in his eyes again, "Spirits of the future of course. The only kind that are useful really." The intruder's taunting words returned to her like the details of a bad dream, "Are these real futures?" "Or possible ones? I don't know Lorelei, I really don't." "Oh." "But I like to think they're just possibilities, all shadow and no substance." There was a long uncomfortable silence between them, neither one had said much about what they'd experienced that night. "Lorelei? The gauze behind the fish and tackle box." "Sorry." she found it easily and sat on the tub beside him, "I didn't know you fished." "I don't." he gave her a wink, "I keep my poetry journals in there." Gently she took his hand and unwrapped it from the towel, "The secrets out. Jason there's something I've been meaning to tell you --" He didn't hear her, he was too distracted by the sight of his hand. The tent spike had gone right through the front of his hand and torn out the back, she had really done a number on him. It was going to leave quite a scar, almost like the one . . . The sound of scissors slipping from Lorelei's grip and clattering to the floor distracted Magwier from staring at the wound. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and she was shaking like a leaf. "What's the matter?" he asked before she pitched forward in a faint, "You look like you've seen a